


What Was Lost

by Dracoravebird



Series: Archangel's Merc [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Biting, Character Death, Dream Sex, Fluff, Garrus might be slightly OOC, M/M, Mass Effect 2, Sad Ending, Sex, Turians, Wet Dream, headcanon turian biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoravebird/pseuds/Dracoravebird
Summary: When Garrus awoke, there was a knot in his throat. His chest felt tight, and his eyes stung. A shaking hand came up to wrap around the dogtags he wore round his neck, holding them briefly before skating up to the old bonding-scar on his cowl.





	What Was Lost

**Author's Note:**

> An angsty one-shot smut of a male OC with Garrus. We all know why Garrus wanted to kill Sidonus. But how deep did the pain really go? I decided to explore the idea.
> 
> WARNING!!! – This is almost ENTIRELY a massive SEX SCENE. This is for mature readers only.

Nearly everyone in the ship was asleep by now. Unfortunately, Garrus was not among them. His mind was running too fast, with no sign of slowing down anytime soon. Rather than just lay in his bunk, staring at the wall, he decided to try something productive. One could never have too much weapon maintenance, after all.

Mindful of how much noise he made, he quietly ducked out of the small vessel’s barracks, making his way down to the cargo bay. It was empty, most of the lights powered down. The ex-C-Sec officer settled in, grabbing his rifle from his locker and seating himself at the workbench.

Even after months alongside his new team, he occasionally felt out-of-place. Sometimes, he expected to hear the door, turn around, and see Shepard coming to chat. But she was gone. Nowadays, when he heard the doors and quiet footsteps come up behind him, it was someone else entirely… such as right now.

Despite the older Turian’s stature and build, he could move very quietly. It was surprising, the first time he had snuck up on him, and after a while, Garrus began to notice their squad leader would actually have to force himself to walk louder to keep from accidentally getting hit by someone he had startled.

“You’ll end up working yourself to death.” A low, rumbling voice huffed, warm breath skittering across the younger Turian’s neck.

Garrus shivered, peering over his shoulder from where he sat performing weapons maintenance. “I couldn’t sleep.”

The response drew a chuckle from Tarkis’ throat. “Maybe I can help with that.”

When he gazed back down to his disassembled rifle and started piecing it back together, he felt a scarred maw nip at his neck, followed up by a throaty purr. Without much thought, Garrus returned the purr, tilting his head to the side to give his lover more room. He could feel Tarkis’ pale amber eye focusing intensely on him, and this was confirmed when the mercenary gave a huff at being ignored.

“Just let me finish putting this back together.” Garrus snickered.

Tarkis hummed, dragging his pierced tongue across his lover’s neck, just beneath his jaw. Even so, he kept his hands off, for now, simply resting them on the table to either side of the younger’s body. He wanted to let him focus on the gun, so it was reassembled properly. Garrus purred softly at the gentle licks and nips, enjoying the attention.

As soon as the rifle was again stowed in Garrus’ locker, Tarkis wasted no time in hefting the younger over his shoulder and carrying him off to his cabin.

“Must you?” Garrus sighed, used to it by now, mandibles tightening a fraction when he felt a broad hand paw at his ass.

“You walk too slow.” Tarkis replied innocently.

“You’re taller, so you have a longer stride. I’m not ‘slower.’”

“Whatever you say.” He chuckled. “Brat.”

Once huddled away, Garrus found himself laid out on the older Turian’s bed, Tarkis biting at his neck on the way down. Broad, warm hands slid along his body, feeling lean muscle through his civvies and pushing up under his shirt to run along his belly. It drew a shiver of anticipation from the younger, a pleased sigh escaping his mouth.

“Been a while since we had some time to ourselves.” Tarkis mused, giving his lover’s hips a squeeze.

“How’s the eye?” Garrus asked quietly, reaching up and cupping the taller’s scarred face.

Rather than take offense or be disgusted, he chirred at him, nuzzling into the touch. “Good. Hurts less since I switched to a glass one instead of the fuckin cybernetic.”

He traced the jagged shrapnel scars with the pad of his thumb. Pieces of carapace along Tarkis’ mouth were missing, leaving some teeth exposed and causing him to drool now and then. The myriad of healed-over cracks and slashes led up to the missing eye, which was completely dark while the surviving eye seemed to glow in the low lighting.

“Mm. Feels good when you do that.” Tarkis flicked his tongue out, running it along the younger’s wrist.

Finally, the older pushed the hand away, kneeling over his lover. He pulled open Garrus’ shirt, button by button, pausing now and then to kiss and lick at the flesh he had exposed. A shuddering breath rattled free of Garrus’ chest, his own hands coming to rest on the beefier Turian’s broad shoulders, slipping past the collar of his shirt to scratch gently at the tan hide accented by darker tan markings. It earned a soft groan from his lover. After nearly two weeks without time for more than just brief nuzzles in passing had left them both impatient.

Tarkis moved down, kneeling on the floor between the younger’s knees. He got Garrus’ pants open, getting them and his boots off to rest in a heap on the floor. Slim, blue-grey legs were lifted onto meaty shoulders, framing Tarkis’ head, but mindful of the larger, older male’s decidedly sharp crest. Garrus sat up, bracing back on his hands as he watched, shuddering when his lover’s warm mouth bit into his inner thigh hard enough to bruise. It drew a mew from the younger, a shiver racing down Garrus’ back.

Already, the room was starting to feel warmer. Another bite was placed to the other thigh, and one just above his hip. The subtle sting of teeth on his skin was enough to make him break out into shudders. Slight pains anchored him, fading out and dulling into a pleasant, throbbing warmth. Tarkis chuckled at his reaction, licking his chops before leaning closer and lapping at the younger’s vent. His pubic plates were beginning to part, steadily revealing sensitive inner flesh.

“A-Ah…” Garrus’ breath hitched when the hot metal ball of his lover’s tongue piercing dragged over the head of his emerging cock. “Not so rough...!”

“I thought you liked it rough.” Tarkis gave an evil snicker, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his lover’s entrance.

“I do, but that… that’s a little much…?”

He snorted. Garrus watched his lover lean closer, carefully guiding the younger’s cock into his maw, mindful of his teeth. His tongue ran along the underside, tracing ridges and veins. A ragged gasp tore free of the younger Turian, whom flopped back to lay on the bed, his hands tightening in the sheets so hard he distantly worried they would rip. Tarkis hummed softly, bobbing his head, relaxing his throat as he felt the head of his lover’s length nudge the back of his mouth. The feeling of the soft barbs on the back of the tongue against the head of his cock had Garrus’ hips twitching in need. Before Tarkis, he had been too afraid to try this, but now that he had a taste… well…

“Fuck.” Garrus rasped under his breath, resting one hand on his lover’s crest.

Tarkis bobbed his head slowly, gazing up at the younger with a smoldering sort of hunger in his eye. Perfect. Perfect size, perfect smarts… willing to put up with his too-old-for-this-crap attitude. Eager to learn. But seeing him right now, the younger’s mandibles drawn in tight with need and embarrassment, needy and breathing hard… THAT was perfect. He pulled off, dragging his pierced tongue up the younger’s cock along the way.

“Eager, love?” Tarkis dragged the tip of his tongue along the sensitive ridges of skin between cock and pubic plates.

“Hn… You always have to be a tease, don’t you.” Garrus feigned being offended, unable to look away.

“Maybe I should get busy, then.”

Tilting his head, he watched the taller move back, kneeling on the foot of the bed as he stripped off his jacket and shirt. While no longer in the military, Tarkis still wore his tags, the metal chain and dogtag glinting in the low lighting of the room. While he stripped, Garrus shimmied out of his pants and underwear, letting them drop to the floor. His lover climbed over him, settling to the side of his legs and resting their brows together.

Garrus yelped as he was suddenly pushed down and flipped onto his front. Tarkis moved over him, biting more firmly at the younger’s shoulders and cowl. Broad hands, calloused from years of military service and weapons training, slid down the younger’s slim ribcage, tracing his belly and kneading his thighs. It was enough for Garrus’ breath to hitch. They had fucked so many times, and yet, the older Turian always appraised him like the first, committing his form to memory.

“Spirits, I’ve MISSED you…” Tarkis growled. “How do you want it, love?”

“L-Like this.” Garrus’ talons tightened in the sheets. “And I want to feel it, later.”

His lover’s purr suddenly sounded like the thrum of an engine. However, he paused, his grip becoming more gentle. One hand reached for the box of condoms on the nightstand.

“Wait.” He grabbed his wrist.

Tarkis halted, tilting his head slightly so he could get a proper look at his lover.

“Can we… go without?”

“You trust me that much, love?”

Garrus nodded sheepishly, gaze turning to the side.

Purring, Tarkis nuzzled the younger’s cheek, setting the condom back down and grabbing the bottle of lube instead.

He was wound-up. Almost trembling. He had never gone without protection. They had always used it. The idea was somewhat scary, yes, but after being together for almost a standard year…

“You’re thinking awful loud, love.” Tarkis noted, running a hand down the younger’s back where he straddled Garrus’ thighs. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

It drew a chuckle from the older’s throat. “Better than good, I’d say.”

Garrus rolled his eyes. “If I hear a single pun, I’m kicking you out of the bed.”

“Oh?” Tarkis rested his mouth beside his lover’s ear. “I’d like to see your narrow ass try, Vakarian.”

A violent shiver ran through him, followed by a soft moan.

“Ready?”

He nodded, arms subconsciously drawing a pillow up against his chest. When he felt the taller’s member prod at him, Garrus exhaled heavily, forcing his body to relax. By now, he was used to the girth, but that did not make it any less intense. Fleshy barbs and ridges tugged at his sensitive rim, followed by a couple inches.

Tarkis groaned thickly behind him, bracing on one hand as the other came to rest on the shorter’s chest. More pressed in. Garrus’ shoulders shook, the younger Turian muffling his groan into the pillow. Recognizing it as a sound of pleasure, Tarkis continued until their hips met with a soft clap. He bit at his lover’s cowl, drawing a low warbling sound from him.

“I’m not…” Garris briefly trailed off with a pant. “I’m not a chew-toy!”

“Do you really want me to stop?” Tarkis thrummed, lapping at the bruises.

“I…”

Rolling his hips slowly for a moment, he then halted, watching pale blue eyes gaze back at him.

“I want to…”

Tarkis caught his meaning, his mandibles giving a flick in thought. “We’ll talk about it once we’re not fucking. Right?”

Garrus nodded, groaning when he felt his lover draw back.

The feeling was followed by a firm thrust that would’ve drove him some inches up the bed, of Tarkis was not holding him. The shorter yelped, then purred, shivering as he felt his lover’s slavering maw come to rest against his shoulder, scarred side to Garrus’ skin.

“Fuck…” Tarkis growled. “So good to me, love…”

He tried to pace his breathing. Like taking a shot. He just needed a rhythm…

Only for the next thrust to force the breath out of him in a low wheeze. Sparks skittered along his spine and pooled in his pelvis. Sharp teeth went everywhere they could reach. Shoulders, neck, cowl, upper-back… The sting of the welts only heightened the sensation of Tarkis’ steady motions, and the feeling of friction against his cock from the sheets.

“Tarkis…!” Garrus panted, feeling the thrusts speed up “Harder!”

A breathy bark of a laugh left the older Turian. Both Tarkis’ hands came to rest on Garrus’ upper thighs, jerking him backwards into the motions. He was unable to stop the pleased yowls bubbling up in his throat, punctuating every gasp for air and every thrust, their hips meeting with noisy smacks. The sounds only egged his lover on, Tarkis grunting behind him and biting the nape of his cowl with an animalistic snarl. Pre dribbled freely from the younger’s cock, making a damp, slippery space on the sheets.

Garrus braced on one elbow, his other hand flying back to scrabble for purchase on Tarkis’ flank. Claws drew thin lines on tan hide, coaxing a particularly loud sound from him – almost a shout.

“I-I’m about to—!”

“Not yet, love.” Without pausing, Tarkis pulled his lover’s hips up off the bed, preventing friction. 

“Please…! I—Ngh!—I wanna see you…!”

Without warning, Tarkis pulled out and flipped him over, grabbing the younger’s slender legs and pulling them over the crooks of his elbows. He leaned closer, pressing their brows together. Garrus let out a shaky, pleasure-addled purr, cupping the taller’s face in his hands. He was ridiculously hard, his neglected cock resting between them, ridges and barbs flared up with how close he was. Tarkis’ own tugged at his insides with each plowing thrust, making his legs feel like jelly.

“Tarkis~” Garrus’ voice rose into a whine.

“C’mon… Lemme see you…” Tarkis smirked down at him, his dogtags rattling against his lover’s thin chest.

He sucked in a broken gasp, body locking up as the heat pooled in his belly finally snapped. He did not know what sound escaped him, his claws digging at Tarkis’ shoulders. The older kept thrusting through his release, milking the pleasure before finally reaching his own orgasm with a howl, a wash of warmth pooling within his lover’s now pliant body. 

The only sound to be heard in the captain’s cabin besides rough panting were two decidedly noisy purrs. Tarkis held his weight off Garrus by bracing on his elbows, their chests sandwiched together. As Garrus caught his breath, he heard a soft rattle, followed by a chain draping his neck. Cracking an eye, he was shocked to see Tarkis had removed his precious tags, and placed them on him. It was… more intimate than he had expected. Not traditional, like a mating bite, but still…

“I could still bite you, if you want.” Tarkis offered, mouthing at the younger’s cheek regardless of the fact he was now drooling enough to drip.

“I… Yeah.” Garrus’ hand tightened around the tags. “Just in case. Please?”

“Anything for you, love.”

\---------

When Garrus awoke, there was a knot in his throat. His chest felt tight, and his eyes stung. A shaking hand came up to wrap around the dogtags he wore round his neck, holding them briefly before skating up to the old bonding-scar on his cowl.

A whimper welled in his throat. It soon bloomed into a sob, the mercenary turning onto his side and curling in on himself. Shepard was dead. Tarkis was dead.

He was alone… and he doubted that would change.

If only Fate had the same idea.

\---------

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think! I was thinking about doing more with this... like a possible AU where Tarkis lives and meets Shepard.


End file.
